Broken Glass
by Serinidia
Summary: Everyone has a breaking point but when Neal hits his right before a difficult undercover operation what are the consequences? Neal whumpage sick angry, Worried Peter and Neal Peter friendship. Not Slash!
1. Shatter the Glass

_**Author's Notes: I hope you guys enjoy this! The lyrics are Breakdown by Daughtry. Please review!**_

* * *

Open up the book you beat me with again.  
Read it off one sentence at a time.  
I'm tired of all the lines,  
Convictions and your lies.  
What right do you have to point at me?

* * *

Dirty looks, disguised jibes that were meant to hurt, sneering comments and being utterly ignored were the only things Neal Caffrey had to look forward to everyday. It hurt more than he let on, more than even Peter Burke knew.

Of course, Neal wanted to keep it that way. He preferred having some of the things in his life private. Even if those things were only his thoughts.

This was why he hadn't mentioned to Peter that he was feeling sick or told him that what people thought about him really mattered.

Neal _wanted_ to earn the other agents' respect and trust but at the moment neither things seemed to be happening.

With a small sigh, Caffrey set his hat down on his desk and started leafing through the files and groaned at the thought of having to read the files for the _entire_ day. He smirked slightly when he saw Peter search for his special pen.

A pen that Neal was using...

A con artist needed to have some fun right?

* * *

Well, it's not the time to breakdown.  
It's not the time to breakdown.  
It's not the time to break up this love,  
Keep it together now.  
It's not the time to break.

* * *

"Neal!" Peter barked the ex-con artist's name for what felt like the hundredth time. He saw the younger man jump in surprise before getting up.

"Hughes wants to talk to you." Peter told his partner softly.

Neal seemed to droop a little and a suspicious look flashed through the blue eyes that were usually dancing.

"Caffrey, you're not in trouble."

That seemed to perk the younger man up a little, but he still seemed off. Peter decided not to mention it and headed back to his own office.

Hughes sighed in frustration as he looked at the young man that was sitting nervously in front of him. "The higher ups want to send you through a series of tests Neal. I told them that you're perfectly trustworthy but they want that proven to themselves."

The older man stopped talking and felt a flash of sympathy as he saw the hurt look spread across Caffrey's usually beaming face. "You're being sent back to jail."

A look of livid fury shot across Neal's face and the younger man bounded out of his seat and slammed his hand down on the desk. "You guys said that if I did my end of the bargain I wouldn't have to go back to jail! Well I've more than done my part Hughes!"

The young ex-con artist began to stalk back and forth. "Being threatened or having to deal with guns, knives-or whatever other weapons there are- while giving you guys your precious little advice wasn't a part of the deal. Having to watch…" Neal choked the words off and turned away from Hughes miserably. _Having to watch Kate die in front of me while __**one of you **__stopped me from saving her wasn't a part of the fucking contract either_, he finished the sentence in his thoughts.

* * *

Read it all, no need for separating here.  
You see what you want and try to justify.  
All your little lines,  
Convictions and your lies.  
What right do you have to point at me?

* * *

"Neal, it's not a punishment. Inste-" Hughes didn't have a chance to finish the sentence before Neal interrupted him.

"What the _hell_ do you mean 'it's not a punishment'?" Neal knew that he was acting out of line but right now he didn't care.

"If you would let me finish the sentence you would know." Hughes snapped his patience clearly gone. "It's an assignment Neal. Why don't you go home and think about it?"

_Why don't you go home and brood about the horrible things the other felons in prison do to FBI snitches?_ Neal translated the meaning of the question as he slammed the door shut to the office behind him.

* * *

His eyes were watery, but the young con-artist didn't care what the other agent's were thinking about him. Not anymore.

After grabbing a cup of the mud they called coffee, Neal sat in the break-room's corner sofa. He needed some time to think.

_Once a felon always a felon…_

_You're trusting his opinion?_

_But, he's a criminal for crying out loud!_

_I never asked for your opinion._

The phrases rolled through Neal's head and he burrowed his face into the soft pillow at the end of the couch. He knew that he was acting childish but hell who wouldn't throw a tantrum in a situation like this?

* * *

Well, I'm sitting alone thinking about it all over coffee.  
And still crowdin' my space are the things you still hold against me.  
You cannot save me.

* * *

Once he stepped foot into that prison he would be dead meat. Not that anyone in this place would care about that. A painful cough racked his body and he squeezed his eyes shut in misery, convinced that the world was out to get him.

He needed to re-gather his cold façade and to remain strong. At least on the outside because after all the outside appearance and behavior were the only things that really mattered in this place. Not a convict's feelings or the want to be accepted into a community.

Neal knew that he was being unfair to Peter but then again, _was Peter only pretending to be friends with him in order to use him_?

No, Peter wouldn't do that.

Would he?

Neal shook his head to clear it. He had to get his act together before someone else saw him like this.

* * *

Well, it's not the time to breakdown.  
It's not the time to breakdown.  
It's not the time to break up this love,  
Keep it together now.  
It's not the time to break.

* * *

A few hours later Peter finally found his missing partner. He had asked Hughes were Neal was but the older man hadn't known. Hughes had however, told Peter about Neal's upcoming assignment and the younger man's outburst.

Peter could understand where Neal was coming from. Having to try to prove yourself over and over again had to be tiring and annoying. To know that people still didn't respect you even after all the work and effort you put in was a devastating blow.

Not to mention the fact that he was furious as well. How many times had Neal risked his life just so that they could solve a case? Peter had even gone as far as to promise Neal that he would keep the younger man from returning to the prison. Now his promise was about to turn into a waste of air.

Peter rubbed his eyes tiredly and leaned against the doorway.

The man in question was sleeping on the couch in the corner The Bible was cradled in his arms almost lovingly. Peter smiled slowly before going over to sit down by his partner.

"Neal?"

No response.

"Neal?" Peter gently shook his friend's shoulder and a frown of concern etched itself onto his face when he felt how hot the younger man was.

"Mmm?" Neal mumbled incoherently as he started to wake up.

"Hey buddy. You feel ok?" Peter asked the younger man gently.

"No." The reply was so blatantly honest and quick that Peter almost thought he was imagining things. Neal always insisted he was fine, even if he was bleeding to death.

"Care to talk about it?"

"Later."

"Alright, let's get you home ok?" Peter moved to help his friend off of the couch.

Neal nodded and stumbled to his feet, leaning on Peter for support. He coughed a few more times drawing concerned glances from his partner his way and Neal muttered an apology. Peter only watched him even more worried than he had been before.

* * *

Open up the book you beat me with again.  
Read it off one sentence at a time.

* * *

Neal nestled into the soft blankets as El tucked him into bed and smiled sleepily at her.

"Thanks El."

"You're welcome sweetie."

Neal rolled over and turned out the light on the bedstand table. His fedora was placed next to the lamp, standing guard over a certain Bible.

* * *

Well, it's not the time to breakdown.  
Well, it's not the time to breakdown.  
Well, it's not the time to breakdown.  
Well, it's not the time to breakdown.  
Well, it's not the time to break up this love,  
Keep it together now.  
Well, it's not the time to break,  
Breakdown.

* * *

_**Author's Notes: Like it, hate it? Should I continue with the story or should be a one-shot?**_


	2. Cracking the Glass

_**Author's Note: The Bible mentioned in the last chapter was used by Neal simply as a sense of comfort. He was just looking through it and ended up falling asleep like that. I also thought that it might help him deal with the stress he's going through.**_

* * *

The next morning found Neal Caffrey staring up at the ceiling. He dimly remembered yesterday's events and wished that he didn't. They were sending him back to jail after all of the things he had done to help solve the many White Collar cases. It was absolutely preposterous.

His body felt like it was on fire and his sinuses were clogged. _This is just friggin' great_, Neal groused as he sat up slowly. The room spun around him and he sat still for a few minutes before standing up.

The thirty-two year old wobbled to the bathroom shakily and climbed into the shower. The warm water felt heavenly as it ran over his freezing skin and he sighed gratefully. It took Neal close to an hour before he was able to convince himself to get out of the warm water and he still sighed reluctantly when he stepped out of the shower.

He was just wrapping the towel around his waist when the bedroom door opened with a creak. Neal jumped in surprise and took up a wary stance. _What the hell_? His still sleep-muddled mind asked itself slowly.

A familiar dark haired head poked through the doorway and Neal sighed in relief when he realized that it was Elizabeth. "You know it would be nice to have some knocking skills." Neal observed trying his best to sound casual as he leaned against the door frame for support.

El made to move over to him, her motherly instincts going into overdrive, but Neal held out a hand in a 'don't come any closer' gesture. For a minute she looked slightly hurt, but then she realized that the only thing the ex-con artist was wearing was his bath towel. A bright red blush crept up her neck and into her cheeks.

"I thought you were still in bed, I didn't realize that you were…" El knew she was rambling but she couldn't help it. There was the sound of shuffling footsteps before one of the drawers slid open with a scuffing noise. Then the bathroom door shut.

Five minutes later a fully dressed Neal came out of the bathroom with an amused expression on his face. "I'm decent." He announced as he plopped down onto the bed. The usually stylish young man's hair was disheveled (he hadn't bothered messing with it to much) and his clothes were a major downgrade from their usual standard.

The sweatshirt that hung off of his lithe frame made him look skinnier than he really was.

"That makes me happy, you should try being decent more often." El replied in a friendly banter, grinning when the younger man flashed a quick look of mock-hurt her way.

"Says the woman with the worst timing." Neal replied, the clogged sinuses making his voice sound strange.

Elizabeth grinned as she reached forward to feel his temperature. "Are you hungry? Need anything?"

The younger man shook his head in a 'no' and she started to walk towards the open door.

"El?" Neal's voice sounded small as he looked over at her.

"Yeah Neal?" Elizabeth stopped and looked back at him. The expression on his face was tearing her to pieces and she cursed the people in charge of this new operation.

"Do I still have to go?"

Elizabeth winced inwardly as she tried to find a good way to phrase her response. "When you're better. This is just wrong Neal."

"You're telling me."

"Just get some sleep honey." El gave him a quick (parental) kiss on the forehead and tucked him into the bed. The reserved expression on the young con man's face told her that he had been hoping she would say the opposite.

* * *

Three days later Neal found himself standing in Hughes' office the only difference this time was that the older agent was holding his tracking device, _Candy_. Yes, he had nicknamed the device Candy.

Who wouldn't want to walk around with _Candy_ all day and every night?

"We need you to keep an eye on Danchien while you're in their Caffrey. Get into his inner circle- they (the higher ups) don't care what you have to do to get in that circle. This will be difficult Neal and between you and me, I want you to let me know if anything starts to go wrong so that I can get you out of there." Hughes was watching the younger man with a sense of sadness. Neal hadn't done anything to deserve this. _Hell, the kid had done the exact opposite_.

Neal nodded slowly, his face molded into a careful mask of neutrality. He had dealt with Danchien before and it hadn't ended very well between them. The young man shuddered as he remembered their last encounter. Neal had watched as the man he'd conned so successfully was cuffed and led off to a fifteen year sentence in prison.

Danchien had attempted to con Neal before the younger man had retaliated. The other man had every reason to hate Neal.

"You have about twenty minutes until they pick you up…" Hughes trailed off uncertainly.

Neal nodded and looked back at Hughes with a glint of an unfamiliar emotion in his eyes before turning around and walking out the door.

Peter was waiting for him and when Neal looked up, their eyes connected.

Scared, wide blue eyes met the calmly worried brown eyes of the federal agent. Neal licked his dry lips and glanced away before looking at Peter again. The older man got the silent message and went over to his younger partner.

"You holding up ok?" The deep voice was full of concern.

Neal swallowed hard and his eyes seemed to tear up a little. "I'm fine." The typical response told Peter that the young man was anything but fine.

Peter reached forward and fondly mussed the ex-con's hair, ignoring the half-hearted protest with a grin.

"I made it so that I can come see you twice a week. You're not going to be in there completely alone, regardless of what they've led you to believe."

Neal's eyes filled with a sense of satisfaction. _Guess they do care a little bit after all_, he thought with a small grin. He had already known that Peter and the rest of the team cared but he hadn't been so sure about the rest of the FBI.

"Can you tell Mozzie something other than I was put back in the slammer for an assignment?" Neal asked, knowing that Mozz wouldn't appreciate being told that Neal was working undercover in jail.

"Sure thing, maybe I'll tell him you took up a career in cat burglary." Peter answered with a smirk.

"That is the latest trend."

"You would know."

Neal smirked as he walked forward, moving slowly down the hallway. The glint in his eyes is the only thing that shows the other agents around him that he's scared. Scared of going back into that hell house of a prison and terrified of meeting up with an old enemy.

The younger man stopped suddenly, closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. Inhaling deeply, Neal stays where he is for minute before moving forward. He did his best to ignore the concerned glance that Peter shot his way.

Neal knew that he needed to keep his newly applied façade on or else he wouldn't last a minute in the place he was headed. When he reached the last door, the one leading to the police car with a seat reserved especially for him, Peter pulled out a set of cuffs. A flicker of defiance flashed across the emotionless blue eyes but Neal complied by putting his hands out.

One Special Agent Peter Burke was forced to load his best friend into the car from hell and watch while it drove away.

* * *

_**Author's Notes: Yes Matt Bomer really did name the tracking device Candy... anyways, like it/hate it? Leave me a review!**_


	3. Snapping Glass

_**Author's Note: Here is the overdue update! Sorry about the wait guys but school, stress, and tiredness made it impossible for me to write! Blame the school its all the school's fault. Anyways, Enjoy!**_

* * *

The lone car made its way through the winding roads and tall buildings as it continued on its mission. Its precious cargo sat in the middle of the backseat staring at the armrest in front of him with an apprehensive expression. There was a knot twisting in Neal's stomach as he saw the all-to-familiar prison looming up in the distance. When they reached the security gate Neal Caffrey couldn't help but see it as the gateway to hell.

The person at the gate looked crabby and annoyed at having to open the gate to admit the car. Neal sighed and shivered slightly as the car pulled up to the entrance and got out of the car reluctantly. He wished Peter was here, if the agent had been with him right now it wouldn't seem quite as bad. An orange jumpsuit was pushed into his hands and he was ordered to go get changed. He knew that they would treat him like a normal prisoner and he wasn't expecting any favors.

He stepped out of the changing room and followed the prison guards to a large group cell. Inmates lined the bars along both side of the corridor and there were hushed whispers and gawking. Neal could hear his name being said in an alarming amount of different tones and voices.

_Shit_, was the only thought that he could muster as he stepped into his assigned cell. He could tell which way the mission was going to be headed already and didn't like it one bit.

* * *

_**Five Days Later**_

Peter Burke sighed absentmindedly as he stared out of his office window at the empty desk. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed the energetic ex-con artist and the silence was pressing down on him. Within one day of Neal's absence at the office all of the fun and energy seemed to have been sucked out of the building and the team itself. Jones was dragging his feet to get things done, Diana rarely smiled and Peter felt downright miserable without his best friend.

The five longs days had come and gone and the cases had moved even slower. Now that Neal was unable to assist them with their cases, it was obvious how much the younger man had added to the team. It was true that at times he made it so that they all wanted to strangle him, but the younger man had grown on them all. Even if Diana and Jones wouldn't admit it, Neal had grown to become like a younger brother to them. And for Peter, Neal was an advisor, a friend, _and_ a younger brother.

There were times when Peter would look at the empty desk and he would imagine Neal sitting there playing with the fedora or attempting to read a case file without getting distracted. He smirked when he remembered the time Neal had been bugging the entire team as he tried to get one of them to take him to an art exhibit that outside of his two miles.

Shaking his head Peter wondered how his partner was faring and he turned back to the case file in his hand. The case baffled him, he didn't have a clue as to how the criminal had pulled it off but now one of the art pieces in the local museum was missing and reeked of a white collar criminal acting behind it. _Come on Neal, just find whatever it is they want from you and get your butt back here. We need you._

* * *

The man in the office was dressed in a white suit with a red tie. There was a gold tie clip that held the tie in place and he puffed out a breath. The smoke from the cigar wafted through the air and he watched it absentmindedly. He nodded in agreement to what the man sitting across from him was saying.

The man in the expensive suit grinned the sharp incisors making him appear all the more predatory. His fingers rapped the solid oak desk and the big ring around his finger made a dull _clank_ every time it hit the wood. The smoke curled around his face as he puffed out again.

There was a thick manila folder lying open on the desk and the second man began to page through it. There were quite a few photographs and sketches of two men but focused mainly on the younger one. A woman stepped out of the corner and peered over the second man's shoulder curiously.

She beamed when she recognized the men in the photographs and she raised her eyes questioningly up at the boss man. The white-suited figure nodded once in confirmation to the unspoken question.

The white-suited man got up and held out his arm to the lady and she took it with another wide grin. The accomplice hastily dropped the folder onto the desk and scurried after them. None of them noticed the picture of a dark haired, blue eyed and attractive young man flutter out of the folder. The face with the charming smile continued to beam from its resting spot on the floor.

* * *

Neal Caffrey woke up with a start and jerked away from the man in front of him out of confusion.

"Are you ready?" The voice hissed, not wanting to be overheard by the guards.

Neal nodded and he grinned at the other man. "Always have been."

The other man grinned in acknowledgement and pulled Caffrey to his feet. "Then let's get going. Time's wasting and _he_ wants us to get it done now."

"I know." Neal snapped moodily as he peered through the prison cell's bars. There was one guard currently monitoring the hallway. "It'll work."

The taller man simply grunted a reply as he moved off into one of the more shadowy parts of the cell.

Neal moved to the front of the cell and dog whistled loudly. The guard turned around with a startled jerk and started walking over to the con man.

"What?" The question was barked in irritation.

"Can I go to the bathroom?" Neal whined, sounding like a little kid.

"I don't know can you?"

"Perve."

The last comment drew a puzzled look from the guard but the other man didn't comment.

"So can I?" Neal potty-danced to prove his point.

"Fine." The guard grouched as he unlocked the door and grabbed Neal before quickly shutting it and looking the cell once more.

Neal's eyes followed the key as the man slipped it back onto the ring. He was prodded forward and Neal allowed the man to escort him to the bathroom. When he was finished with his business Neal complacently went down the hallway. The man unlocked the cell door with a different key and that was when Neal realized that _all of the keys on the chain were the same_.

The con artist pretended to trip and his flailing hand reached out, using the guard as a support as he righted himself. "Sorry," he mumbled as he walked into the cell. The guard didn't reply, instead he just shut and locked the door after Neal before walking off.

Neal grinned at his cell mates and held up a key. "Think he's going to miss this?"

The other men shook their heads in exasperation as Neal handed the key over to Danchien.

_If Peter knew what I was doing he would beat me silly,_ Neal groused as he backed away from Danchien nervously. The man had a glint in his eyes that the young con artist wasn't very fond of.

He had been doing whatever it was Danchien had wanted him to do for the past week as an attempt to get back into the other criminal's good graces and until this very second it had seemed as though it was working. Neal was almost certain that someone had tipped his old enemy off and dreaded what was going to come next.

The rest of the convicts that shared the cell with him had formed a circle and Neal glanced around at them with a confused expression. Danchien moved forward and Neal automatically flinched back.

If Danchien noticed the movement he didn't acknowledge it. "How am I supposed to believe that you aren't here to snitch on us? Hmm?" The older man hissed as he circled the younger felon.

Neal swallowed and forced himself to keep from turning to watch him. _Crap, crap, crap and crap._

The younger man knew that now that Danchien had used him to get the key he probably wouldn't have anything else that he would need Neal for.

* * *

_**Author's Note: I don't think I've ever done this many chapters without beating Neal up! Dun dun dun... cliff hanger! Remember the more you review the more motivated I am to type and update! ~~~And motivation is in short supply right now folks~~~**_

**_Soooo, please leave a review!_**


	4. Bloodstained Glass

_**Author's Note: Hello my bloodthirsty fans…. Yeesh your demand for angst and whumpage are amazing! You sent poor Neal running and hiding in the closet…. To bad that won't save him!**_

_**Neal: Huh? But I have a DOOR between you and me!**_

_**Me: Oh Neal, you are hilarious if you think a piece of wood can interfere with my imagination.**_

_**Neal: Oh crap…**_

_**Anyways on with the story!**_

* * *

The suited figure leaned against the walls of the elevator and smiled at the young woman next to him. Her emerald colored eyes flashed a greeting back at him and she smiled. Her long red hair clung to her hands and flowed around her waist like a light cloud.

Another man stood in the corner of the doorway and watched the couple with a grim smile on his face. He had a thick file tucked under one arm and he was looking forward to get the plan going in motion.

"Hate to break up the chitter chatter you lovebirds are having over there, but we _do_ have something that we need to get done."

The man and woman stopped and abruptly turned to face the suited man. The lady had a small scowl on her face, obviously resenting the fact that she had been interrupted.

The suited figure ignored the indignant expression and stopped the elevator so that they could have some privacy. "Ruth, you are an assassin, yes?"

The woman nodded, her eyes lighting up with a sadistic glint. She licked her lips and leaned forward to take the file from the older man and frowned when he pulled it back towards his own body.

"Patience Ruth, it won't kill you."

The red-head pulled a face but didn't respond for a long moment. "May I please see the folder?"

"Yes, you may since you asked. Nicely." The suited man was clearly toying with her.

The emerald eyes skimmed over the contents and she nodded several times in satisfaction. "What would you like for me to do to him?"

"Whatever you wish. Just make sure his partner sees it clearly and is unable to help him."

The other man shifted and looked at his superior uncomfortably. "What am I supposed to do?"

The white suited man passed his accomplice a police officer uniform. "You are to escort her into the prison under the pretense that you have successfully captured and found her guilty. She is to share the large cell with the other inmates. Got it?"

"Yes sir."

* * *

Peter Burked had never been so excited about waking up early on a Saturday morning. It was three o' clock in the morning when the federal agent gave up on the pretenses of sleep and crept out of his bedroom. He didn't want to disturb El; she deserved a good night's sleep.

He couldn't believe that he was actually excited about going to a prison on a Saturday. To many people it would be strange, even weird but then again Peter wasn't like other people. Other law officers weren't best friends with a con artist.

If he had thought that the first five days without Neal were horrible then he didn't know what he had been thinking. Surely, the last few days had been even _worse_. His mouth was constantly dry, and he wasn't moving forward at all in the current case. Hell, he hadn't gotten a _single_ case done since Neal had left. _Well, I take that back. We did solve those mortgage fraud cases but seriously, any ninny could do those._

He glanced around the dark kitchen and flipped the light switch up so that he could see what he was doing better. _You're losing your touch old man._ He scolded himself as he dumped some coffee into the coffee pot. _You used to solve tons of cases like this before you had even come across the name Neal Caffrey or any of his aliases_.

Peter groaned as he realized that it hadn't even been two minutes since he had gotten up. Could this day go any slower?

* * *

If Neal Caffrey had been asked that question he would have said that was impossible. His left leg was torn open from the lower part of his ankle (just barely missing the tendon) to his upper calf and it hurt. Like hell.

He directed his glare up at the man standing over him and attempted to scoot backwards when the figure stepped forward. The key in the other man's hand was bloody and so were his hands.

Neal shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny that the man was giving him and wished that he would go away. Danchien walked over from his end of the cell to inspect his friend's handy-work. He elbowed Neal in the gut to keep him from pulling away before lifting the injured leg up so that he could better inspect it.

Neal hissed sharply and tried to pull away as Danchien skimmed the tips of his fingers along the injury with a smile. "Hope you weren't planning on going anywhere Caffrey."

The younger man simply growled something sharply before yanking his leg out of Danchien's grasp. The older man scowled and slammed Neal's head against the wall causing the young ex-felon to see stars and groan.

The last thing he needed was a headache right now.

"You're still going to have to show me how you got out last time Caffrey. We both know you did it and I don't care if your leg hurts or not. You are going to walk regardless." The older man's voice was a snarl as he stared intently into the pain fogged blue eyes.

The only option Neal felt was suitable was to nod an acceptance. Apparently it was the correct way of handling the situation because it made both of his tormentors leave. He briefly wondered what Peter was doing before leaning back against the wall and with a soft sigh closed his eyes.

* * *

It was seven in the morning when the woman was shoved into the cell. One of the men whistled and she rolled her eyes before giving him the finger and told him to back off. A different one came up close to try to 'get acquainted' and found himself hurled to the ground and pinned down before he could even blink.

"I said back off. Next time I'll make it hurt." Her flame colored hair was pulled back into a French braid but it still managed to look fierce. Her emerald eyes darted around the room from man to man daring them to come closer. She released a now thoroughly-cowed convict and watched with a smirk as he scrambled away.

Danchien watched her with a respectful smile on his face. Finally! It was about time he shared his cell, his _kingdom_ with a respectable criminal. He decided that it would be best if she came to him instead of him approaching her.

At least until he saw her approach Caffrey. _That_ wasn't acceptable. Caffrey was _his_ and _he wasn't going to share_ the young con artist turned FBI bitch with anyone. That would be his pleasure alone. Neal was his to torture, to torment and make utterly miserable.

Chest puffed out he stalked over to her and glared at her threateningly. She looked up at him and smiled before turning back to Neal. Her fingers ran along his exposed throat, skimming his skin in a strange manner before coming to rest over his pulse. Amazingly, the young man didn't even twitch.

"Don't. Touch. Him." Danchien growled as he stood over the flame haired intruder. _Who does she think she is, touching __**my**__ enemy?_

"Sorry, didn't know he was off-limits." Her expression was innocent as she widened her brilliantly green eyes. "My name is Ruth, yours?"

"Danchien." The tone in his voice told her that he wanted her to back away from the kid.

She was just about to reply when four of the guards walked into the cell. All of the criminals backed off to the other side of the cell and nervously stayed away from the flame haired fiend.

Two of them reached down and hoisted Neal into a standing position and jostling woke the younger man up in a state of surprise. He looked around wildly before realizing that he was leaving the cell. The thirty two year old winced as his bad leg was put to work and gritted his teeth.

* * *

It felt like days had passed by the time the five men had gotten down the hallway and into the meeting room. Neal's leg had reopened from the strain of being used but the younger man gave no indication of feeling it. He also made sure the guards didn't notice as he did his best to keep from limping and to keep the pace.

Neal sighed in relief when the door opened and then sat into one of the chairs; pain and exhaustion were written on the lines in his face.

Five minutes later Peter and Elizabeth Burke walked into the room and Neal rose to greet them without thinking about his leg. The injured limb protested violently and the younger man felt it give way and would have hit the ground hard if not for Peter.

The older man gently lowered him to the ground and the looks of concern and anger were fighting for dominance on his face. Neal looked up at him in confusion, obviously wanting to know why he was on the ground before he remembered his leg.

_Nice move wise guy_, he scolded himself as he fought the nausea in his stomach. His leg hurt tremendously and he squeezed his eyes shut. They flew open again though when he felt someone lift the limb up to inspect the damage. He yelped loudly and tried to twist away but Peter held him still, and spoke soothingly into his ear.

"Hey, hey, easy Neal." Peter coaxed when he saw the wild and pain filled look that entered his partner's eyes. "Take it easy buddy."

Neal seemed to calm down but he still jerked reflexively when Elizabeth started to examine him again. A soft whimper slipped past his lips as the woman he considered to be the mother-figure in his life began to wrap something that looked like a shawl around his injury.

"El, you don't ha-" Neal stopped talking when Elizabeth fixed him with the 'I-dare-you-to-finish-that-sentence-young-man' look. He looked away miserably and shifted so that his weight wasn't centered on his good leg.

"Neal, what happened?" Peter's voice sounded concerned as he skimmed over the rest of his partner's body, trying to tell if he was hurt anywhere else.

"I went in a jail cell, what else do you think happened?" Neal snipped.

Peter gave Neal _the look_.

"I got the key an-"

"What key?"

"The one I had to lift-"

"You _stole_ a key?"

"I prefer borrowed. Anyways I gave the key to Danchien an-"

"You _gave_ it to _Danchien_?"

"That's what I said."

"You. Gave. Danchien. A. Key."

"Are you a broken record player?"

"Neal _why _did you _give_ him the key?"

"If you would let me finish you would know."

"Continue."

"Thanks for the permission… I gave it to him to earn his trust some more. I had already moved up in rank and thought I was doing well. Only after he got the key…."

"_Oh Neal you are quite pathetic you know that?" Danchien continued to walk around the younger man in circles as he glanced around at the circle of gathering convicts. "None of us like the FBI or its bitches and now your one of their tools so we don't like you. I never liked you personally anyways…"_

_One of the other men snickered and elbowed his neighbor good-naturedly._

_Danchien lashed out so suddenly the young consultant didn't have the chance to react. The next thing Neal was aware of was Danchien looming over him with a wicked sneer painted across his thin lips._

"_You're FBI masters must be so pleased with your work if they threw you so willingly to the wolves like this. Its like throwing a chum out into shark infested waters and expecting the sharks not to eat it if not at least come up to inspect it." Danchien's eyes glinted excitedly as he carefully placed a foot on Neal's exposed stomach._

_Neal twisted desperately and managed to throw Danchien off-balance. The younger man scrambled upright and backed away from his enemy. Regaining his feet, Neal looked around opting for a way out. He tried to surge through one opening but was shoved back into the middle of the ring roughly. The man that had pushed him back wore a sneer on his face._

_The young ex-con turned to face Danchien just in time to catch a blow to the cheekbone and his head snapped back. Neal staggered and sought to keep his footing knowing that if he went down he was done for. He lashed out and caught Danchien in the stomach so forcefully that he could hear the other man's breath expel out of his lungs._

_Neal winced knowing that would hurt and not liking the fact that he had been forced to hurt someone. Even if it was in self defense._

_One of the convicts from the circle growled something angrily and came up from behind Neal. The latter felt the hands grip his shoulders and he tried to twist out of the grip. Before he could get even a little wriggle room he was flipped onto his back. Danchien walked over rubbing his stomach gingerly and placed his foot back onto Neal's exposed mid-section. The man that had flipped Neal continued to hold the young man down._

_Danchien grinned and leaned his weight forward, a grin splitting across his face when he saw Neal grimace. "What's the matter Caffrey? The ground not good enough for you?" He punctuated the last sentence by putting his full weight onto Neal's stomach._

_Neal couldn't breath and it scared him. His lungs tried to pull in more oxygen but they didn't have the required room to expand so they didn't. He gasped and tried to twist out of the grip but only managed to get another foot placed on his torso. His eyes widened as he realized that Danchien was now standing completely on top of him._

_He could literally feel his ribs bending, trying to support the unexpected weight. They were doing a good job, or they were until Danchien decided to use Neal like a trampoline._

_This time there was a loud snapping noise as Danchien landed and Neal screamed as pain rocketed through his system. He saw his tormentor grin and squeezed his eyes shut. The weight vanished a few minutes later and he sighed in relief. Maybe they would leave him alone now._

_No such luck. Instead the thirty two year old felt someone grab his left leg and hold it in a tight grip. Almost like a Ferrier would to a horse he was about to shoe. Then pain tore through his system starting at the back of his leg by his tendon connecting leg with the ankle and felt it grow almost in a spiral motion until it reached the back of his upper calf up by the back of his knee._

_He screamed. There was no way he could hold it back, not when they were essentially (what felt like to him) cutting his leg off. Someone jammed a rag into his mouth to muffle the sound and he choked as his airway was blocked._

_Neal felt himself being dragged over to the corner and whimpered softly as his injured leg scraped along the rough prison flooring. His head cracked against the wall and he allowed the darkness to take him without a fight._

"We need to get you out of here." Peter stated when Neal had finished talking. The younger man rolled his eyes with a sigh of exasperation.

"Thank you Captain Obvious."

Peter rolled his eyes and looked up at El. His wife's face was white and the hand holding the shawl in place was trembling. "Are you alright El?"

She nodded and attempted a weak smile, "Yeah, I'm fine."

* * *

The guard sighed restlessly as he paced back and forth. He was bored and the end of his shift was coming up soon. He couldn't wait to get home to watch the newest episode of Covert Affairs and was going to be pissed if the prisoner he had brought to the meeting room made him late.

A slim, tall figure slipped out of a different door dressed in a white suit. He approached the guard with an envelope. The guard noticed this and his eyes glinted with curiosity.

"I have a favor to ask of you…"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later the guard walked into the room and headed over to where Neal was. "Time's up." His voice was cold and unfeeling.

"He needs medical attention." The other male's voice spoke up. The figure turned from the young consultant in front of it to face the guard. His id tag named him as Peter Burke.

"Our medical section is temporarily closed at the moment."

Peter swore so violently that even El raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Well make it temporarily open."

"I can't do that."

"You will if you want to keep your job."

The guard simply shook his head, shifting so that he could feel the weight of the envelope in his inner pocket. "I can't do that."

"Do what? Keep your job?"

"Sir, don't make me ban your right to visit."

Peter growled and suggested that the man do something that was disturbing not to mention physically impossible.

Neal pulled away from his partner, not wanting Peter's ability to visit him revoked. The visits were and would continue to be the only thing he looked forward to. Well, those and getting out of here.

Peter growled and forcibly made Neal lie back down, unaware of the pained grimace that the motion caused.

"Peter, I'll be fine."

"That's got to be the biggest load of bull I have ever heard."

"No, really I'll be fine." Neal insisted stubbornly. "You'll be able to get me out of here now that I'm hurt soon right?"

Peter looked away from the imploring blue eyes that Neal turned his way. He didn't want to face the trust and loyalty that those eyes held for him.

_You're the only one._

_The only one what?_

_The only one that I trust._

"I hope so Neal." Peter didn't want to promise the kid what he didn't know that he could or couldn't do.

Didn't want to raise any false hopes.

"You'll come to get me. I know you will, but for now I need to go back. That way you'll be _allowed_ to come and get me."

Peter sighed as he helped the young man to his feet and steadied him when it looked like Neal's leg was about to buckle again. Neal offered him a weak smile before stepping away from Peter unsteadily. El moved forward and took Peter's arm when it looked like he was about to follow his partner back out the door.

He sighed reluctantly and followed her out their designated door.

* * *

Neal stumbled when he was roughly thrown into the door and half wished that he could go to the medical part of the prison. If only to escape what he knew he would face as he stumbled back into the cell.

The young man looked up just in time for a fist to connect with his cheek bone and he collapsed into a world of darkness.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Hmmm... did that satisfy your lust for Neal whumpage? (at least for now?) I also decided to throw in a bit of Protective Peter (in case you didn't notice sarcastically speaking). Peter's going to have it in for himself eventually because he is now behaving like Neal used to when I was trying to draw Neal. Which is why I started writing fanfiction to begin with. Ever since then Neal has been an angel when I draw him out of fear of what I'll do to him next. (hey, it works doesn't it?) If you guys go to . you can see my White Collar drawings as well as the other art that I'm involved with. The Neal Caffrey Complete pic is the one that started this spree of fanfictions so yeah... **_

**__****Garr... kept righting bits and pieces of Untimely Phobia in this story for a while... guess Neal is telling me that he's ready for whatever it is I'll be dishing out to him in the next update which will hopefully be soon. Geeze haven't updated Some Things Are Better Left Unassumed in a while and I need to work on The House of Death_ as well..._**

**__****_Oh, I PUT UP A POLL TO LET YOU GUYS DECIDE WHICH STORY I SHOULD WRITE AFTER I WRAP AT LEAST ONE OF THE ABOVE UP! The options from the poll have a brief description in the Upcoming White Collar Stories portion of my profile so please pick one and vote for it..._**

**__****_As always your reviews are like fuel to a fire for me so please help me keep that fire ignited!_**


	5. Broken Glass

_**Author's Note: Ah, I love you guys! Just to let ya'll know, Neal threw an epic hissy fit after the last chapter so… needless to say he's in trouble…**_

_**Neal: Aren't I always in trouble?**_

_**Me: Well, if your in one of my stories you are… most likely…**_

_**Neal: Remind me why I'm in your stories to begin with…**_

_**Me: Because you my dear walked into the trap when you wouldn't let me draw you.**_

_**Neal: ~sticks out tongue~**_

_**Me: Can I have my cell phone back now?**_

_**Neal: (snorts) No! Not until you stop this mindless violence!**_

_**Me: Guess I'm never going to get it back. PETER! Neal took my phone again!**_

_**Peter: Leave me out of this Serinidia!**_

_**Anyhoo, on with the story!**_

* * *

Neal groaned softly as he felt someone tapping his face and urging him to wake up. For a brief minute he thought it was Peter but when he cracked his eyes open to half mast he realized that it was the exact opposite of Peter. The red-headed lady was squatting in front of him and was tapping him on the cheek in an effort to rouse him. Her emerald eyes were sympathetic as she helped him sit up.

Danchien came over so that he was looming over both of them and Neal flinched at the man's sudden appearance. Danchien smirked as he knelt next to his nemesis and patted Neal's leg in what would have seemed to be a friendly fashion if one of the guards was watching.

His friends in the higher up offices of the FBI had made it so that the younger reformed con artist had been forced to stay for at least another day. He grinned as he saw Neal wince and then growled when he saw the woman hold the con-artist's hand.

Ruth was smart enough to know a warning, no matter how primitive it was. She scooted backwards with an apologetic smile to Neal and her green eyes flashed with resentment. Danchien simply smiled in triumph as he grabbed Neal by the collar of his shirt and hauled him into a sitting position. Neal groaned as his ribs protested the sudden movement and coughed when he swallowed wrong.

"Hate to wake you up from your beauty sleep Caffrey but I do believe its time that we get this show on the road. You see, we've all been in our cell like good little felons and we want out. Thanks to your generous act of kindness we now have a means of getting out of the cell. But we want more than that. You _will_ lead us out of here without any of us being caught." Danchien shook Neal roughly at the end of his monologue making the younger man whimper softly.

The felon stood back and waited impatiently for Neal to get up. When the younger man showed no interest of getting up by himself Danchien growled and yanked him to his feet.

Neal doubled over with a hoarse cry of pain and his bad leg gave way. He fell to the side, his balance thrown off and practically non-existent. The consultant felt tinier and far more gently hands lift him back up into a sitting position and he did his best to hold back a groan of pain. "T-thanks." He gasped, grateful that the woman was helping him instead of leaving him to Danchien's not so kind hands.

"Are you ready?" The question was purred into his ear and Neal jumped in surprise. He nodded slowly and felt her hands slide up his arms and then under his arm pits in as she sought to get a good hold on him. She grunted as she strained upwards and Neal pushed off of the ground with his good leg. With her help he managed to stumble to his feet and he flashed her a version of the charming smile that usually graced his features.

Danchien had grown impatient during the process and shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Hurry it up Caffrey." He barked as he unlocked the door with the bloodstained key. Neal rolled his eyes and managed to limp forward, his facial expression taught with pain.

Every movement made it feel like he was being hit by a freight train repeatedly. His brain was working madly, trying to formulate a plan that would make it so that he could escape while trapping the rest of the criminals in the building.

* * *

Peter Burke sighed restlessly as he tossed and turned in his bed. El was watching him worriedly but she didn't say anything. Satchmo whined from the corner of the room and went over to the bed. The yellow lab nudged Peter's hand with a wet nose and licked the fingers dangling over the bed.

Peter grinned and fondly rubbed Satchmo's ears. The big dog's tail thumped against the side of the bed as the lab leaned into the caresses. The federal agent sighed as he ran a hand over his face. _Jesus Neal, I'm sorry_, he apologized to his friend mentally. _Damn the rules_! He grinned slightly at the irony of the thought and shook his head. _Only you Neal could make it so that I would damn the rules_.

If only he could get his partner out of that hell hole _now_ rather than _later_. He felt El touch his arm and he turned around to look at her. Her beautiful eyes were moist and she was blinking rapidly. Peter smiled at her sadly and hugged her. He could feel her body shudder and the moisture of tears that were soaking through his shirt. The agent rubbed his wife's back awkwardly as he attempted to calm her down and to be the support she needed.

"We'll get him out of there El." He whispered soothingly, needing to hear the phrase spoken out loud as much as she did. "_I'll_ get him out of there."

She sniffled and he felt her nod against his chest as she continued to sob. Peter leaned over and grabbed the box of tissues off of the nightstand and handed it to her. She grinned at him weakly. "Don't want me to use your shirt as a Kleenex?" El teased in an attempt to lighten the mood a little bit.

Peter just nodded as he felt his eyes slide shut and felt her nestle up against him before drifting into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

The guard sat on his couch that furnished the small living room in his apartment with a sigh. Traffic had been horrible and the hour long drive that he normally had, had turned into a three hour drive.

He had missed Covert Affairs. _Damn it_! He prayed that his DVR had actually worked for once and crowed triumphantly when he saw that the show had been recorded after all. He felt the envelope in his breast pocket crinkle and he took it out carefully.

A fine white powder drifted out of the envelope as he opened it and he sneezed violently. His body twitched and he gasped as a razor sharp pain shot through his bowels. The guard's vision blurred and his eyes watered. Blood ran out of his nose in a steady crimson river.

His last thought was that it was completely unfair for fate to tease him like this. How could it be so cruel as to make him miss Covert Affairs (by watching it when it was programmed) and then to cruelly dangle the show right in front of his face before keeping him from watching it yet again? He vowed that if it was possible he _would_ turn into a ghost and that _he would see that episode_.

* * *

The man in the white suit smiled a grim smile that personified death as he saw the guard draw in his last shuddering breath. He huffed out another puff of smoke from his cigar and turned of the monitor. He turned in his chair and flipped on several other screens and his brow furrowed when he saw Ruth _helping_ their target. Those fierce emerald eyes held a soft look in them and the white suited figure slammed a fist on the desk in front of him. Emotionless black eyes flared suddenly like lightning flaring across the night-time sky.

_Damn you Neal Caffrey! I will __**not**__ allow you to charm your way out of this one._

* * *

The 'damned' con artist limped weakly down the narrow corridor as his he sought to remember the way he had gone the last time he had escaped. Danchien shoved him roughly and Neal stumbled just barely catching himself before he had a chance to land flat on his face. He could feel warm blood running down his calf and winced as his ribs throbbed mercilessly.

Neal had been walking for over an hour now and was surprised that he was still even conscious let alone walking. His hands felt along the wall as he searched for the hidden exit that he had discovered the last time he had come through here. If he could find it and slip into the dark space before Danchien or anyone else had a chance of following him, he could lock it from the inside.

Danchien caught onto what Neal was doing and he began to press against the wall in different spots. He slammed the wall with his body in frustration and gasped as he collided rather painfully with it. He saw Neal roll his eyes in a, _you're a dumbass,_ manner and growled.

Danchien looked back at the wall in front of him for a long minute and when he looked back at where Caffrey was he snarled angrily. The young man was nowhere to be seen and Danchien was furious. The felon swore that he would make Neal suffer before he finally killed him. He would make the younger man beg for death, for a release from the overwhelming agony.

Neal Caffrey gasped with relief as he allowed his body to lean against and slide down the wall. He moved his injured leg gingerly as he stretched out in front of him. The reformed con artist closed his eyes, willing for the darkness to take him while his stomach growled hungrily. When was the last time he had eaten?

It had to have been at least two days ago if not more. Danchien had seen to that.

After a brief respite, Neal forced himself to keep moving. He almost screamed when a hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed his arm. "Peter?" The consultant asked in an almost delirious fashion.

"No, its just me." A feminine voice answered him soothingly.

"How'd you get in here?"

"Followed you. Listen you don't have much time before Danchien realizes where the door is so we need to move faster."

"We?"

"I'm going to help you. I don't like Danchien any more than you do and I don't belong here. I was accused of stealing something that I didn't steal and they also accused me of murdering several people. I never did any of those things and I should at least be in a woman's prison. Someone must have pulled some serious strings to get me dumped in here."

Neal just grunted in reply as he started off stiffly down the narrow hallway. Her arm slipped around his waist and let him use her as a support.

It took the odd duo and hour to reach the end of the passage and it should have only taken twenty minutes but Neal was gasping for air by the time they reached the large chamber at the end of the hallway.

They could hear footsteps racing behind them and they both knew that it was more than likely Danchien.

Neal fumbled around for the light switch, needing to see what the hell he was doing. His hand closed around it when a searing pain shot through his stomach. The thirty-two year old screamed in pain, doubling over completely. His hands flew to the area that was the source of the pain and gasped in surprise when he felt the hilt of a knife protruding from the area. Trembling hands moved out further and came across slim, delicate hands.

Ruth's hands.

"R-r-r-uth?" Neal gasped the woman's name in disbelief as he sank down onto his knees with a pained whimper as the woman he had thought he could trust twisted the weapon cruelly.

"You are so naïve Neal. You really thought that I was on _your_ side?" The voice was filled with a mocking scorn.

Neal didn't answer her as he sagged back against the wall and concentrated on breathing. The knife twisted again before being pushed _upwards_. Neal's back arched and he screamed as the agony ripped through his consciousness in torrential waves. He whimpered softly and clenched his jaw so hard that his jaw's muscles were clearly visible.

"I just thought that you should know that Peter set this up Neal. This entire thing has just been one elaborate con orchestrated with the intent of getting rid of you."

_No! Peter wouldn't do that to me_, Neal retorted with his thoughts as he sought to push a new wave of pain to the back of his mind. "N-n-oo." He gasped in denial.

"Oh, Neal. How do you manage to be so damn naïve? He's hated this whole drama deal since it started. Burke and his wife are tired of having to worry about his job every day. You're a liability."

Neal winced and his hands were clenched into fists at his side.

"Everyone at that office hates having to babysit a con artist. That's not what they were hired to do. If they had wanted to then they would've become prison guards."

Neal shook his head in disbelief. _Don't listen to her_; he encouraged himself, his heart telling him that Ruth was lying.

"It's true Neal." A familiar voice hissed hatefully from the far corner.

Neal felt like he'd just been gutted and had his internal working put out on display. His mind was reeling in shock as he tried to comprehend what he was hearing.

"You've been a dead weight to me ever since we met. I only agreed to work with you because Hughes offered to upgrade my pay check by a significant amount. It's the same with the rest of the team. Our deal was to play nice, and keep the hate secret."

Neal gasped sharply and bit his lip in an attempt to stop the whimper. "P—Peter?" He gasped as his eyes started to water.

"What!" The reply was snapped angrily and Neal flinched. The hate in his 'best friend's' voice shook him to the core. The gaping hole in his heart that had been caused by Kate's death stretched and tore even more at the betrayal he was trying to confront.

Neal squinted into the gloom as he tried to see Peter, needing to see for himself that it really was Peter. As if sensing Neal's need the figure stepped out of the shadows to reveal the familiar profile and features of one FBI Agent Peter Burke.

Tears of hurt (emotional hurt) that Neal had been fighting to keep at bay trickled down his cheeks and a gut-wrenching sob shook his body. "I-I don' understan'." Neal breathed the words out as he tried to comprehend what he was hearing and seeing.

"I thought that you were smarter than this Neal, seems like that was a load of bull too." Peter reached into the pocket inside of his suit and pulled something long and shiny out of the pocket. He waved the gun in front of Neal tauntingly as he lashed out with his foot.

Neal yelped and doubled over as the foot connected with his side while Ruth simultaneously ripped the knife out. The yelp turned into a haunting scream as the young man tried his best to cope both physically and mentally with everything that was being thrust upon him.

* * *

Peter Burke shifted uncomfortably in his bed, doing his best not to disturb Elizabeth, who was still snuggled up against his chest. He looked over at the alarm clock and realized that he was running late with picking Neal up.

_Oh wait, there is no Neal to pick up_ he reminded himself miserably. He wondered what his friend was doing right now. An image of a beaten and hunched over Neal popped into his mind and he shook his head in an attempt to get rid of it. The Neal in the image looked up and Peter saw an immense amount of suffering in his friend's eyes. Eyes that were begging the agent to save him.

Peter shuddered as he tried to wipe the image off his mind and he was glad that El was snuggled up against him. The physical contact reassured him and helped to calm down some of his nerves. It was amazing how his wife emanated such a calm and soothing aura even while she was still sound asleep.

* * *

An hour later, Peter and El were both dressed and ready to leave the house. El had gotten showered and ready in a record breaking time that left her husband reeling in a shocked disbelief.

Peter was determined to see Neal again today; he _had to reassure himself_ that his friend was ok. Well, at least alive.

The car ride down the long stretch of road was silent, both of its passengers lost in thought and doing their best to keep a calm appearance for the other's sake. Peter parked the car as soon as they reached the prison and raced inside, El right behind him. There wasn't a receptionist at the desk and Peter raised a worried eyebrow.

"I want you to go back to the car."

"No. I'm coming with you!" El argued, desperate to see Neal again.

"Listen to me El, if there is something wrong in there I'm going to need you to be able to call Hughes for me. I won't have time to talk while I'm back there ok?"

El nodded reluctantly. "You'll bring him back?"

"I wouldn't dream of leaving him in there."

Elizabeth nodded and with a small good-luck hug started back out to the car.

* * *

Peter looked around in dismay as he walked past row after row of empty cells. Convicted felons should have been contained in those cells but now there wasn't any sign of the inhabitants.

There was a trail of blood leading out of one of them and Peter felt the blood drain out of his face in horror. He was almost one-hundred percent sure that it was Neal's. Face ashen, Peter followed the trail with his gun drawn.

He frowned in concentration when the trail ended in front of a portion of the wall and looked around in confusion. The squeak of old shoes alerted Peter to the other man's presence before the latter had a chance to attack.

Peter whirled around with a furious expression on his face and he lashed out. The blow sent the other man crumpling without a sound and Peter crouched over the slack body like a panther guarding its kill.

He had chosen not to shoot the man because he hadn't wanted to alert anyone else of his presence. He walked back over to the wall and took out the lighter in his pocket. He always carried it because hey, you never knew when one might come in handy.

Peter flipped it on and ripped off a piece of clothing from the man he had felled and set it on fire. The smoke from the flames wafted to the wall in front of him and _vanished_ into the wall. Peter was just starting to sort out what was going on when a heart-wrenching scream sounded from the other side.

"Neal!" Peter screamed his partner's name as fear shot through his system. He rammed up against the wall and stumbled forward when it gave way. Peter didn't stop to look around; instead he raced down the narrow hall. The agent skidded to a stop at the mouth of the hall and stared in horror.

A man that looked exactly like him was standing over Neal with a gun. His partner was trembling in fear and pain. Peter felt his heart twist painfully at the expression of pure hurt in Neal's eyes as the brilliant blue orbs looked into the terrible brown ones that loomed over him.

Hell, the man even _sounded_ like him. Peter was frozen to the spot in horror as he saw the gun lower so that it was aimed at the trembling youth and flinched when he heard a loud report echo around the room and down the hall.

_**No one **__shoots __**my partner and doesn't pay for it**__! _Peter swore as he lunged out of his stupefied trance. The launch was so powerful that he slammed into his clone, sending them both sprawling on the hard grown. Peter caught a glimpse of his friend and was relieved to see that Neal was still conscious although the younger man probably though that he was hallucinating as Peter slugged the clone hard in the face.

Blood rushed out of the false Peter's nose and Peter grinned savagely as he struck out again. There was a snap as the man's nose broke and Peter leaned to the side as the other man attempted to retaliate.

Peter gasped as a foot lashed out of nowhere, hitting him in the stomach and the agent let himself roll with the kick. He knew that he would sustain less damage that way but that didn't mean that it kept the blow from hurting. He heard a gun cock from above him and he froze when he saw a colt staring him in the face. Both his clone and a woman he dimly recognized were standing over him. The clone was holding the gun and the woman was grasping a bloody knife in her right hand.

* * *

No one noticed as Neal stretched his arm out and managed to grasp the handle of a gun. He recognized it as Peter's and steeled himself for the pain he was about to face before forcing his body into a sitting position.

The pain was excruciating and Neal fought with every fiber of his being to keep silent. Somehow he managed to stay quiet and he aimed the gun shakily at the man he now realized was Peter's clone.

His vision blurred and Neal squinted as he tried to discern where the man really was. There were two of the fake Peter and Neal flinched when he heard the man cock the hammer to the gun back. He saw the gun swing down to aim at Peter. Desperation cleared Neal's vision and he took advantage of the opportunity to take the shot.

* * *

Peter Burke flinched when the sound of a gun going off echoed around the cavity for the second time. He looked around in surprise when he didn't feel any burning pain shoot through him. Then he looked up just in time to see his clone fall to the ground, a perfect bullet hole was formed in the center of the area between the man's eyes. Peter moved his gaze down back up and saw a shaking Neal slowly lower a smoking gun.

Peter nodded in appreciation to his partner before he rolled to the side quickly. He had forgotten about the flame haired beauty. She had tried to take advantage of his distraction but luckily Neal had saved him again. The younger man had nodded in the woman's direction with a look of fear on his face and Peter had realized exactly what his partner was trying to tell him.

The evasive maneuver that Peter had performed threw the lady off balance and she stumbled with a curse. Peter took advantage of the opportunity and tripped her up with his legs before standing up in a single fluid motion. Crouching over her, Peter slammed her head into the floor so hard that she was instantly knocked out and she would be out for a long time.

Peter sighed in relief and rocked back on his heels as he caught his breath. Then he remembered Neal and ran over to his partner. "Neal?" Peter panted his friend's name questioningly.

There was a low groan and the blue eyes flitted open as the younger man attempted to move into a more comfortable position. Neal's breathing was raspy and erratic as he struggled to stay conscious.

Peter noticed the difficulty Neal was having with breathing so he gently lifted the younger man forward and scooted behind his friend so that he could support Neal better than the wall was. He also knew that the closeness would help comfort Neal as the man who was like a son to him fought the battle for survival.

Peter reached his arm around Neal's torso and put pressure on the bullet wound with his hand and used his arm to put pressure on the knife injury. The position was awkward and uncomfortable for Peter but he didn't care, as long as it helped Neal he would stay like this.

Peter reached into his pocket and flipped his cell phone open. He pressed the speed dial for El's number. Peter told her to call 911 for cops and a bus. He had decided to have her call because he didn't want to try to do two things at the same time while attempting to take care of his friend.

Neal's breathing sounded a little bit better until the younger man had a horrendous coughing fit. The coughs were wet and deep causing Peter to frown in concern. He patted Neal on the back and did his best to help the younger man through the spasm while tears of pain leaked out of his partner's eyes.

When Neal pulled his hand away after the last cough Peter gasped in surprise. _Shit_…

The palm of Neal's hand was covered in blood. Blood that hadn't been there before the coughing fit…

* * *

_**Author's Note: Oooh, I'm evil aren't I? But hey, guess what the evil authoress did for you guys? She typed a chappie that was over 4,000 words long and fended off a very pissed Neal that tried to keep hitting the backspace button every other word.**_

_**Neal: Did not!**_

_**Me: Yes you did. You aren't going to con my ermm.. our audience into thinking that you are innocent.**_

_**Neal: I might have "allegedly" done something of the sort…**_

_**Anyways, please leave a review if you want to find out what happens! **_

_**P.S. I apologize if Peter seemed a bit out of character and I hope you weren't terribly confused by the clone business…**_

**_Oh yeah, do you guys find the chapter easier to read when its aligned in the middle like this or when its aligned to the left like normal?_**


	6. Saving the Pieces of the Glass

_**Author's Note: Well, today I must be majorly motivated/inspired because this is the third chapter to a story that I've written.**_

_**Neal: ~grumbles~ I didn't give you any motivation…**_

_**Me: How much do you want to bet?**_

_**Neal: My life.**_

_**Me: I wouldn't bet that if I were you Neal. Especially with the way your condition is in this story…**_

_**Neal: Ooops, forgot about that… quite confusing me with multiple updates. You're jumbling up all of my thoughts.**_

_**Me: Obviously. But I did give you a break in the last update.**_

_**Neal: True, but that still doesn't mean I forgive y-**_

_**Me: ~~holds up a cookie, Neal's eyes light up~~**_

_**Neal: ~~takes cookie and munches happily~~**_

_**Well now that Neal is satisfied (for now) on with the story!**_

* * *

_Previously:_

_Peter reached into his pocket and flipped his cell phone open. He pressed the speed dial for El's number. Peter told her to call 911 for cops and a bus. He had decided to have her call because he didn't want to try to do two things at the same time while attempting to take care of his friend. _

_Neal's breathing sounded a little bit better until the younger man had a horrendous coughing fit. The coughs were wet and deep causing Peter to frown in concern. He patted Neal on the back and did his best to help the younger man through the spasm while tears of pain leaked out of his partner's eyes. _

_When Neal pulled his hand away after the last cough Peter gasped in surprise. Shit…_

_The palm of Neal's hand was covered in blood. Blood that hadn't been there before the coughing fit…_

* * *

"Neal? Hang in there buddy." Peter consoled his partner as he tried his best not to show the rising tide of panic that he felt welling up inside of him. He knew that the consultant could choose to just give up, to let it all go any minute.

Personally, he wouldn't blame the kid but as an FBI Agent about to lose the best damn partner he had ever had he would be pissed. But even then, he knew that he would only act pissed as a way to try and mask the anguish within.

Peter felt Neal attempt to readjust himself into a different position and did his best to assist his partner. He figured that Neal's back was probably aching from the awkward position that they were in and he agreed with that completely. His own back was aching almost as much as the arm that was looped under Neal's and pressed vertically against the younger man's mid-section.

He felt Neal shudder and then attempt to roll to the side; Peter grunted and was forced to gently make the younger man stay in place. Neal's agitated whimper tore at his heart but he kept the hold that he had on the younger man. Neal attempted to roll again, the movement was more panicked and desperate this time and Peter almost let him out of surprise. He hadn't expected Neal to be this strong especially considering the amount of blood loss and the damage of the other injuries that had been sustained.

* * *

Neal was hurting. No _hurting_ was a major understatement as he felt his abdomen contract again. Peter's arm was pressing down on the injuries but that wasn't what was causing the major pain. No, that would be his stomach area, his insides, yes, those were what was causing the searing agony to rip through him. Agony that was attempting to keep him from breathing, to keep him from wanting to survive.

He felt something creep up his throat again and he coughed as he attempted to swallow it. For a minute the feeling subsided but then it came back again and Neal, realizing what it was, attempted to roll out of Peter's arms. The younger man wanted, no _needed_ to get away from Peter. Not because he wanted Peter to leave, rather it was because he _didn't_ want Peter to leave. He needed the since of security that radiated out of the older man, after all, Peter was the only reason as to why Neal had been so stubbornly fighting to stay awake for so long.

But Neal didn't want to disgust the older agent. Didn't want to spill his guts all over the older man but when Peter forced him to stay where he was Neal had to fight against the panic that was blossoming within his chest. The metallic tasting liquid filled his mouth before he was able to swallow with a disgusted grimace.

Once again Neal tried to escape his friend's grasp but found himself unable to. He got close to accomplishing the escape but Peter recovered from his surprise fast enough to restrain him again.

Whimpering, Neal attempted to communicate with Peter, tried to tell Peter that he needed to let go for just a minute. That if Peter didn't let go then he would be puked on and if Peter was like any other individual, being puked on wouldn't be considered very fun.

A flash of regret flickered through Neal as he rammed his head back against Peter's chest, driving the air out of his mentor. He writhed out of the weakened grasp and with a loud hacking noise, up-chucked the contents of his stomach.

Blood, the vile liquid he had tasted was all made up of blood and some other watery substance. Which told him that he was bleeding into his peritoneum and that meant that he was in for a crap load of trouble.

Gentle hands ran over his back and Neal shivered in spite of his efforts to not too. He could hear Peter's voice whispering something to him but Neal couldn't make out what the agent was saying. He gasped as he felt another tremor rack through his body and then his stomach heaved as the organ sought to push out the unwanted liquid that had pooled up inside of it. The pain was incredible; Neal had already thought that it had been bad enough before, that it couldn't get any worse. He had been wrong, so wrong. Now every single minute shift that his body made resulted in pain so intense it would make the edges of his vision turn black.

Peter was getting ready to flip him back over and that was the last thing Neal wanted him to do. The ex-con artist didn't think that he would be able to handle it if the agent did flip him. He was afraid that he would end up giving into the blackness. Neal protested with a weak grunt as he attempted to evade the hands that were reaching for him. The movement proved itself to be too much for his weakened body and Neal collapsed, the pain easing from his mind as he gave into the darkness.

* * *

The FBI agent watched in horror as the blood poured out of his partner's mouth. The steady stream of life saving liquid gathered into a frothy pool underneath Neal's face and Peter gently supported his friend to keep him from face planting in the mess. Neal seemed to relax before shuddering violently.

"Neal?" Peter inquired hoping that his friend would be able to answer him. The only reply he got was a pained moan and then a gagging noise as his partner threw up more blood.

"Gosh Neal, you really had to get yourself done a new one didn't you? You couldn't just half do it but get it done full out." Peter ranted in concern as he felt another weak spasm pass through his friend's body. There was a pained whimper and Neal's arms shook alarmingly.

Peter wrapped an arm under the younger man's stomach gently placed his other hand on Neal's shoulder. Tensing slightly he began to pull Neal onto his back. The ex-con artist protested the movement with a cry and tried to push away from Peter. The agent was surprised but was able to catch Neal when the consultant's eyes rolled to the back of his head and collapsed. Peter gently flipped Neal back over onto his back deciding it would be best if he performed the movement while the younger man was still unconscious.

* * *

"Peter?" El's voice echoed down the hallway as she followed the blood trails knowing that she needed to find out how to get to her husband and friend before the paramedics arrived. And it would be a while before the paramedics got here; the nearest hospital was almost forty-five minutes away and when she had called. The only response that she got was her echo and she continued her way down the hall.

After what had felt like for ever but in reality had only been five minutes, El found a portion of the wall open. "PETER?" She yelled his name so that he could hear her if he was in there.

"El?" Peter called her name back, his voice sounding worried and confused.

That was the only thing El needed to make up her mind, she strode forward at a jog into the tunnel and didn't stop until she came to mouth of it. She gasped audibly when she saw Neal cradled in her husband's arms. There was a large puddle of…something… a few feet away from the two men and Neal's torso looked slick and shiny.

El hurried over to where they were and crouched down next to her husband. Her wide eyes traveled along the battered body of her friend before meeting Peter's gaze. "How bad is it?" She asked her voice wavering.

Peter looked away, refusing to meet her pleading gaze. He knew that she was pleading for him to tell her that it wasn't as bad as it looked, that Neal was going to be fine.

But Peter couldn't do that because Peter didn't know.

El blinked heavily when Peter didn't answer and she leant over and kissed him on the cheek in an effort to show her support. She gave Peter a hug and felt him relax as he leaned into her embrace. Her husband was shaking with the various emotions that were coursing through his system and she looked up at him lovingly.

"He'll pull through this."

They both new the statement wasn't a fact; rather it was just the opposite. It was a hope.

El sat with Peter for a while before she realized that she needed to go back outside. With a small sigh of reluctance she ran delicate hands through Neal's hair one last time before she got up. "I'll be back with help." She told Peter when she was standing by the mouth of the tunnel. Once El saw Peter nod, she took one last look at Neal and left.

* * *

Peter sighed as watched his wife disappear down the tunnel and looked down at the man cradled in his arms. Pressing his forehead against Neal's, Peter breathed in deeply, his eyes closed as he prayed for God to spare his partner's life.

He felt Neal stir slightly and Peter lifted his head, eyes searching his partner, trying to figure out how to help him. "Neal…" Peter breathed his friend's name hopefully, desperately wanting the younger man to open his eyes, to get up and tell him that he was fine. _Hell for all I care the kid can lift my wallet and that would make me happy_. Peter knew without a doubt that he would have let the young ex-criminal get away with the act if Neal really did take advantage of the moment to pick his pocket.

* * *

There was a small, pained whimper and Neal shifted his head so that his cheek was resting against Peter's stomach/lower chest. Peter felt his heart flutter as he hope that Caffrey was starting to come to. He was well aware of the fact that coming round would put Neal into an immense amount of pain, but the silence and lack of communication from his partner was wearing Peter's self control down.

"Neal?" The persistent voice continued to penetrate through the thick soup that one Neal Caffrey found to be flooding his mind. He liked the darkness because it kept the pain away.

"Come on Neal." The voice interrupted the peace once more and Neal shifted his head to the side in annoyance. Why wouldn't that voice just go away?

"Caffrey come on, please!" Neal groaned in annoyance before he began to recognize the voice that so adamantly insisted that he wake up. It was Peter.

But why was Peter bothering him like this? Couldn't his friend tell that being awake hurt and that Neal didn't like it?

Suddenly he felt hands grab him, felt his body being turned and Neal couldn't help the raw scream of pain as he returned to a consciousness that deserved to have a big greeting sign saying "Welcome back to Hell".

The movement stopped and Neal took a few shuddering breaths, feeling like a fish out of water. He coughed, his stomach seizing as it was upset. Then a liquid traveled up his throat and filled his mouth with a familiar metallic taste. Neal groaned knowing that was about to happen would hurt more than he cared for it to.

With a loud hacking noise, Neal leaned away from the bodies attached to the hands that were holding him as his stomach emptied itself once more of its unwanted contents.

There were loud exclamations of surprise and concern. Neal struggle uselessly when he failed to recognize the owners of the voices. Then Peter was there, Peter was holding his hand and telling him that everything would be ok. That Neal would be alright and he would never have to come back here no matter what might happen in the future. Neal felt himself relax as a familiar hand mussed his hair.

Peter was here and Neal knew that the older man's presence meant safety and security. If Peter was telling him that everything would be ok then it would. With a soft sigh Neal closed his eyes and let the darkness take him once more, blissfully unaware of the panicked shouts and frenzied administrations that the action caused.

* * *

_**Author's Note: I'm so excited! Third chapter for a story to be written completly and uploaded today! I will warn you guys not to expect this to happen to much though guys, I just happened to have an enormous amount of creativity that had been bottled up all week during school that needed to be released. Yay for Neal whump! ~~stuffs cookie into Neal's mouth to keep him from interrupting~~ I hope you guys enjoyed the latest installment and just to clear up some of the questions you guys asked here are some answers:**_

* * *

**_1) Is the Man in the White Suit the man that shot Neal and got his butt kicked by Peter?_**

**_(Answer): No that was not the Man in the White Suit. That was his male accomplice mentioned in one of the earlier chapters. The Man in the White Suit should be making an appearance in the next chapter though._**

**_2) Will Mozzie be in this fanfiction?_**

**_(Answer:) Yuppers, our favorite /paranoid/ little guy will also be making an appearance in the next chapter and boy will he tongue-lash Peter and Hughes when he sees them!_**

**__****3) What happened to the rest of the inmates?**

**__****_(Answer:) The didn't feel like searching for a snitch and decided to use the opportunity to escape. They are now running rampant in the streets. _**

_**

* * *

**_

Neal: Can I say something now?

Me: No.

Neal: ~crosses arms and holds up a sign~

Me: Sorry Neal, but they can't read your sign sweetie!

Neal:Well make it so they can.

Me: Nope, its kind of rude... Anyways please leave me a review guys!

Neal: Nooo, please have some pity on me and don't encourage her twisted mind!

Me: LALALALALALa... Can't hear you Neal.

* * *

Be kind a leave a review for your hardworking authoress =)


	7. Small Glass

**_Author's Note: Sorry for the delay guys with the updating of this story! I'm flabbergasted at the amount of attention and reviews this story has had! It makes my day whenever I see a story alert, fave, or (especially) a review in my inbox! I hope you enjoy! _**

* * *

The man in the white suit was furious. The news concerning his two associates' deaths had spread quickly and he was saw people glancing over at him suspiciously. Of course they would blame him; he was after all the last one to have seen them alive. He was absolutely livid that the most non-violent con artist in history had killed one of the agents and had helped his handler kill Ruth. He would make sure that the con artist paid… that is if he survived the ordeal he had just gone through…

* * *

Peter Burke could only watch helplessly as his best friend, partner and little brother went into a cardiac arrest. There was nothing he could do, and Elizabeth kept telling him that but it didn't help Peter to know that. That only meant that he had failed to keep Neal safe, alive and healthy. _Well, you kind of have to be alive in order to be healthy_, a sarcastic voice whispered in his brain, sounding an awfully lot like a certain con-artist.

He stared as Neal's body arched while electricity jolted through it in an attempt to bring the still heart back to life. Still no response from said organ. One of the paramedics shook his head hopelessly but motioned to the others that they should try one more time. "Clear!" The electricity jolted through the motionless body once more and Peter looked away. "He's back!"

Peter started in surprise when he heard the positive feed back from one of the paramedics that was leaning over Neal. El squeezed his arm and offered her husband a small smile as the medics started to carry Neal out on a stretcher. The agent walked over to the man's body and flipped the corpse over. Running his hands through the various pockets Peter found what he had been looking for. An id.

The agent quickly pocketed the id before he let El lead him away from the corpse. His mind was numbed from the overload of thoughts that were all trying to be processed at the same time.

Peter blinked and realized then that he was standing in daylight, no longer inside of the hell-house. His body was sore from the strange position he had been sitting in for so long and he sighed as opened the door to his car. El got in the driver's side as Peter shot her a puzzled glance.

"You need to rest." Was all she said as she started the engine.

Peter nodded and ran a hand through his hair as he tried to calm himself down a little. He pressed his forehead against the glass of the car's window and breathed deeply. It was an exercise he had grown familiar due to a certain ex-con. He sensed more than saw Elizabeth shoot a look of concern and worry his way but decided not to acknowledge it. The rest of the car ride was silent, the car's passengers to worried to bring up any conversation.

* * *

The waiting room was eerily silent and Peter Burke couldn't help but think that the silence was a foreshadowing that would affect the rest of his life. He hoped desperately that it wasn't.

A life without Neal Caffrey in it would be flat out boring. Peter wouldn't have someone to try and figure out, someone that kept him on his toes, rebuked his sense of fashion or to continuously harass him. There wouldn't be a young man that could make Peter have a heart attack every time a foolish stunt was pulled. Peter ran a hand through his hair as he got up and started to pace again. He was well aware of El's exasperated sigh and shot his wife a quick grin.

He had been waiting for close to four hours now and with every minute that passed Peter could've sworn that a day had come and gone. He leaned against the wall, his forehead pressed against it and his mind flashed back to when he had bent over Neal and their foreheads had touched while Peter had battled the conflicting motions that had been raging through him. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and inhaled the smell of his wife and a sense of peace washed over him. It really was amazing that she could emanate such a strong aura of peace, love and security while she was hurting inside.

Peter turned and felt the arms wrap around him a delicate head rest against his chest. His wife's body shuddered and Peter ran a hand through her hair in a lousy attempt to comfort her. He really needed to work on this emotional stuff. He was about as helpful as a newborn babe when it came to helping people with their emotions.

They were still like that when the doctor came out into the waiting room. It was obvious that the man was tired but he greeted them with a warm smile as he approached. "Are you family for Neal Caffrey?" He asked.

"Yes." El replied automatically, making it sound like he really was their son.

Peter smiled softly at her reply before he corrected with a "More like friends, but we do consider him a part of our family."

The doctor nodded and asked them to follow him to his office. Once everyone was situated he pulled out a file and opened it. "Let's start with the good news shall we?"

Peter and El nodded their eyes were lighting up with hope.

"Mr. Caffrey is expected to survive. Of course the next twenty-four hours are critical. I will warn you that he is on a ventilator to help his breathing and will be for the next couple of days. He is in a medically induced coma so that his body has more time to heal before he wakes up."

Peter's face was pale as he absorbed the information. A machine was _breathing_ for Neal. He swallowed and almost didn't want to see his friend. Didn't want to see Neal lying prone and helpless, hooked up to tons of machines. Machines that breathed for him, nourished his body and kept him pumped with fluids.

The agent closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he looked down at the floor. He noticed then that his socks didn't match. Woops. Neal would probably tease him about that later.

"Can we see him?"

The doctor nodded. "Only one person at a time and for a bout five minutes each. His room number is 312."

"Thank you."

* * *

The couple walked down the long hallway with trepidation. El was clutching Peter's hand in such a tight grip that he had heard his fingers crack. He winced but didn't say anything. The two stopped outside of the door with numbers 312 on it. Peter swallowed and steeled himself for the sight that was about to greet him.

"You go first." El told him as she gave him a gentle shove in the direction of the door. Peter swallowed and turned the knob, the door creaking open as he slid through the gap. He turned around and his eyes widened as he took in the sight of his partner.

_Christ_. Neal had never looked so small and vulnerable. The younger man looked like a little kid and Peter ran a trembling hand through the consultant's hair. The dark brown locks were soft but lacking the usual shine that they normally had. It was like all the vitality had been sucked from his friend.

"Hey Neal," Peter whispered softly feeling slightly stupid. It wasn't like Neal would be able to hear him, right? He shrugged and decided to keep talking anyways. "You're going to be fine buddy. The doctors fixed you up the best they could and said that you would be able to do the rest. Neal," Peter broke off unsure of what to tell the younger man. He hoped that the younger man couldn't hear him. At least not this next part because if he did, the younger man would never cease to torment Peter about it. "Neal, I miss you. Life is more exciting for me with you in it and even though you know exactly which buttons to push to piss me off…" Peter smirked slightly, "you're like a little brother to me. Or a son depends on the day." Peter grimaced as he thought how sappy this must sound. He leaned over and mussed the younger man's hair again and almost froze in shock when Neal _leaned_ into the comforting gesture. It was almost like the kid knew that it was Peter.

A small but genuine smile lit Peter's face before he whispered that he had to go for a while but that he would be coming back. With one more glance at his partner, Peter went outside, holding the door open for El. He squeezed her hand gently as she passed him before allowing the door to close.

* * *

El approached the bed nervously, her eyes scanning the prone figure that resided on it. "Oh Neal," she sighed as she took his hand and held it. "hang in there." She hoped that if the artistic young man in front of her heard her that he would understand the deeper meaning. El gazed at the various machines hooked up to her friend and felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She-unlike her husband-was not afraid to let her emotions show. "Don't worry about only getting to eat the hospital food. I'll make sure you get some real food in that belly of yours. Can't have you eating nasty stuff all the time sweetie. First thing your getting is a batch of your favorite cookies, but you have to keep this between you and me or else I'll get in trouble." El smirked at what the doctor's or any of the nurses' faces would look like if they caught her smuggling home-made goodies to their patient.

Leaning over, El kissed the younger man's forehead gently before stroking the soft locks of hair out his face in a motherly gesture.

* * *

Neal Caffrey was floating through a world of darkness. The feeling was disconcerting but he didn't mind all that much. He wondered briefly if this is what it would feel like if humans could fly on their own. Neal could hear snippets of conversations going on around him and assumed that they were doctors and nurses talking. After what seemed like an eternity the voices went away.

Shortly after the unwanted voices disappeared Neal sensed a familiar presence. He suddenly felt safe and secure. The young felon knew instinctively that it was Peter, and he was proven correct when he heard his mentor speak. The words that poured out of his friend's mouth gave him a source of energy, a source of strength. It allowed his body to tap into a reserve of willpower that Neal hadn't even known he had. When Peter told him that he was like a son to him…

A feeling of warmth spread through his body, chasing away the cold that he had felt previously and some of the darkness was pushed to the side as he tried to claw his way to consciousness. Wanted to tell Peter that he was the only real father-figure he had. Then again, he thought wryly, Peter'll find a way to use that against me somehow. Not in a bad way though, but in a teasing manner. A familiar hand mussed his hair and Neal leaned into it, trying to tell Peter that he wanted the agent to stay. He dimly heard Peter say something about coming back later and wished that the older man would just _stay_.

He felt another hand, this one smaller and softer than Peter's grasp his own in a firm but comforting grip. _Elizabeth_. He must have scared the crap out of her when she had seen him. Neal winced mentally feeling bad for putting El through that and tried to keep his muddled mind in line as she started to talk.

Neal's mind seemed to magically clear at the mention of home-made cookies. Hospital food was _not_ his favorite kind of food. He attempted to squeeze El's hand to show that he was a huge fan of that and smirked mentally when she whispered in his ear, telling him to keep it a secret. The con artist would never have dreamed of telling a soul. Neal felt her lips press against his forehead gently and then her hand delicately pushing his hair back. The young man realized that she was leaving and felt a surge of panic crash through his system. _Stay, please_! He pleaded. If neither of them stayed then there would be nothing to help him ward off the darkness that he knew would consume him.

And the thought terrified him.

* * *

**_Author's Notes: Sorry if Peter seems ooc in this chapter, I find it hard to portray his emotions when it comes to sentimental stuff like this so I hope I didn't botch it..._**

**_Neal: I'm amazed_**

**_Me: About what?_**

**_Neal: You didn't hurt me in this chapter!_**

**_Me: Enjoy it while it lasts buddy boy_**

**_Neal: What's that supposed to mean? You know what? Just don't answer that. It was a rhetorical question._**

**_Me: Don't worry, your out of the 'accumulating injuries' spotlight at least for the next chapter_**

**_Neal: YAY! This deserves a party!_**

**_Please leave me a review. If you do you can come to the party ;)_**


	8. Waking Glass

**_Author's Notes: Sorry about the wait you guys, its been a long week or so. I haven't really had a lot of time to work on my stories... anyways I hope you enjoy!_**

* * *

The machines were beeping in a perfect rhythm and the soft whirr they created worked together to create a symphony. A symphony that was interrupted by a determined young man with crystal clear blue eyes. A hand twitched before the young man's head turned to the side restlessly with a small sigh.

Neal Caffrey inhaled sharply as his eyes slowly opened and allowed him to glimpse the world around him for the first time in nearly a week. The room around him was dark and the many signals and signs on the multiple machines around him told the con-artist that he was in his least favorite place.

For Neal hospitals were the equivalent of hell and were only topped by prison. He hated how the doctors would ask him if his stomach hurt (after already telling them that it hurt) and then regardless of the answer, prod it anyways. Or the time when he had sworn that he didn't have strep throat and that his throat was slightly aggravated because of his sinus infection.

Of course the doctor had ignored his protestations and shoved the hated swab down his throat anyways. Neal smirked at the memory. He had gotten his revenge on the doctor by showing the doctor the meaning of the words 'gag reflex'. Neal's stomach had more than readily shown the doctor the contents of his lunch, breakfast and the other night's dinner. The doc had gone through all of that just to have the strep tests come back negative and the diagnostics of a sinus infection positive.

It was a shame that the 'gag reflex' gig wouldn't help him get out of here. Neal racked his brain as he tried to figure out why he was there and started to sit up slowly. Pain shot through his torso and he hissed sharply before lying back down again. _Prison, hostage, key, man, hurting_ and _Peter_ were the jumbled thoughts that raced back into the fore front of his mind. The young man's brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to sort through the cluttered mess of memories. He dimly remembered a man—no Peter—beating him… remembered Ruth's betrayal and the stunned hurt that her actions had caused. Neal shifted uncomfortably as the brutal images of Peter's livid face shot across his eyes.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Neal attempted to block out the images and felt something in his brain give. It took him a while to realize that it was his emotional barrier—the one that had been fortified following Kate's death- and knew that there was nothing he could do to try and keep it intact.

But none of this made any sense. Peter had told him that Neal was like a son to him, so why would the older man beat him half-to-death?

Maybe the concern that agent had been showing was fake, suppose Peter really did hate him that much? There wasn't anything Neal could do about that except to try and make up whatever he had done wrong to the older man. The only problem was, he didn't know what he had done to warrant such horrid behavior from his partner.

With a small whimper of confusion and hurt Neal let his eyes drift shut and slid back into the darkness.

* * *

_Neal found himself standing in a subway like station. In fact to be precise it was a monorail station. His friends (both from his past life and current life) were standing on both sides of the station. One group split off and boarded the current monorail and another group split up and boarded on the next monorail to pass through the station. This kept occurring until it was just Neal and Peter waiting for a ride. Peter was making small talk and acting like his normal self after a good day of work. The next mono-rail pulled in and the two partners boarded it without hesitation. _

_Peter gestured for Neal to go in front of him and the reformed con-artist rolled his eyes, feeling a bit hurt that Peter didn't trust him to get onto a monorail without trying to make a run for it. _

_A hand shot out and dragged the startled young man in as Peter roughly shoved him forward. A surprised cry of pain tore itself from his throat when a fist sank into his stomach. A familiar and unwelcome accented voice greeted him from the dark recesses of the cabin, "Hello Neal. I see that you're still inside of your territory so far. What a shame."_

_Keller._

_Then another voice piped up, this one a bit closer than Keller's and Neal's eyes widened in horror. "I don't take kindly to being double-crossed twice Caffrey. I will find that girl and kill her with dignity of a long, slow painful death. I want you to know that it will be your fault that she dies."_

_The fist sank into his stomach again as Wilkes forced his hand into Neal's solar plexus. Neal choked slightly and his fearful and pained eyes sought out Peter. Surely Peter would help him, Peter must have tripped getting in and that was why he had been shoved so hard by his partner._

_Something hard struck him across the jaw and Neal yelped as a sickening crack told him that it had been broken. " 'ter?" The word was forced through the aching jaw and was slightly slurred in the process. _

"_Shut it Caffrey." Peter snarled in response and Neal flinched back in surprised hurt. _

" '_hy?"_

"_Because you have caused me nothing but trouble. You have no idea how many times I've had to risk my job to cover for your idiotic actions. I'm sick of it and I'm not going to have you to continue to ruin my life."_

_Tears leaked out of the corners of Neal's eyes as he sought out his mentor's gaze. A pair of steely brown eyes met his gaze and Neal blinked pleadingly at Peter. There was no change in the man's expression and Neal knew then that the man he had dared to hope to call his 'father' hated his guts._

_There was no reason left to care about what happened to himself. There was no reason to want to go through the humdrum existence of everyday living if it meant being around people that despised him or living in a jail cell. Kate was dead. Peter hated him and Neal wondered if El's affection towards him had been faked._

_He winced as another fist slammed into his ribcage and choked as a searing pain shot through his chest. The only thing racing through his mind was why…._

__

_

* * *

_

"Neal! Neal calm down buddy, you're safe now." The voice that should have brought the younger man comfort and peace only served to agitate him more. Neal thrashed against the bindings, wait….he was bound to the bed now?

Panic set in and the ex-con artist thrashed even harder, the machines were screaming and the sound of voices shouting orders served only to confuse the young man even more.

Then a more gentle, soothing voice broke through the panicky haze that ran through his brain. "Neal, honey its ok." A gentle hand ran through his hair and Neal leaned into the caress, his heart beat slowly starting to go back to normal.

His eyes opened slightly and peered up into El's warm eyes with a sheepish grin that turned into a grimace as pain shot through his body.

"Hey…" He rasped as she smiled at him fondly.

"You feeling better?"

"I'm fine."

Peter rolled his eyes from his seat in the corner. The older man was confused by Neal's reaction to him earlier and had decided that it was best that he didn't rush things with Neal.

"You look like crap."

It took Peter a couple of seconds to realize that his charge was addressing him. "Moi?" He feigned an innocent expression as he stood up slowly.

"No, my invisible friend."

Peter ran a hand over his face and winced when he felt the stubble.

"Good to see you awake kiddo." Peter told Neal, his voice sounding a bit gruff. He was rewarded with a small smile from his partner before he saw the younger man's eyes drift shut, the drug that he'd been administered taking affect.

El just continued to smile and quickly promised Neal that the next time he woke up that he would be greeted with the sight of a heap of cookies. A small, tired smile grace the younger man's face before he drifted off completly.

* * *

It was several hours later when Neal woke up again and this time he found himself alone. Or at least he thought he was alone….

The man dressed in the white suit slumped back in his chair that occupied one of the dark corners of the room.

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_**Author's Note: I love my DVR sooo much! Its been taping the White Collar's that are on at 1:00 in the morning on Friday nights =) I'm somewhat peeved that it didn't tape Out of the Box last night but hopefully after going through Season 2 again it'll return to Season 1. **_

_**I know this was short but I thought it was best I upload now so that you guys could have an update. Please leave me a review, you know I like them!**_


	9. Tainted Glass

_**Author's Notes: Hi guys! Thank you for sticking with me and this story for so long! I am shell**_**-**_**shocked at the amount of reviews you guys have been giving me for this story! I never expected it to get even 50 and yet you guys reward me with 100+!**_

_**~hugs all the loyal reviewers~**_

_**I thought I might allow you guys a sneak peek at a yet-to-be published story as a reward and a thank you. The excerpt will be after my (second) Author's Notes.**_

_**Neal: You're going to ruin the surprise!**_

_**Me: Aww, come on Neal, I think they'll like it…**_

_**Neal: You mean that you hope they'll like it. ~looks down at the chess game~ Oh by the way, check mate.**_

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Neal shifted restlessly in his bed as his dreams troubled him once more. This time instead of being beaten by Peter he was forced to watch as Keller and Wilkes blew his friend and partner up in front of him. No amount of pleading had convinced the two older cons and Neal was made to sit still or else El and June would die. He uttered a soft whimper of anguish as the El in his dreams screamed Peter's name frantically. There was nothing he could do to keep her from rushing into the flames after her husband.

"El…" The word was breathed in a troubled sigh as the young man turned his head to side yet again.

The man in the white suit simply smiled and stood up. Leaning over Neal he sneered into the unconscious con artist's ear. "You really are a waste of air Neal; it's a pity Peter cared so much while the two of you were stuck in that bank vault. I would have preferred it if you had died that way, much less troublesome for me." There was a pause as the man took out a syringe, "but then again Caffrey, you've never been known to make things easy. Always having to do things with a _bang_." There was a dark chuckle.

"Infiltrating the FBI and moving my way up the ladder was so much easier than I had anticipated it being. It was quite pathetic actually, the lack of security I mean. All of my documents were fake, I would have thought that you of all people would notice that they were fake, but then again no one asked for your opinion on the matter much less investigated it. When I heard that Burke had finally caught you and thrown your useless butt in jail I was thrilled. I mean, we have been competitors for years and years now. In fact if I believe my memory serves me correctly, we used to be partners Caffrey.

It was you and me against the world, like one of those cheesy super-hero movies only we were (are) the bad guys. And then _she_ came along, batting those baby blues and swishing that head full of dark hair all around the place. I didn't mind it when you were with Alex. In fact I loved it, we had a fence that was reliable and the best I had or have ever come across. But no, that wasn't good enough for you. You just had to go and throw it all out the door when that witch pranced across your path.

She might have had you under her spell but she sure as hell didn't trap Alex and me into it. We were too smart for that. Why couldn't you see that she was just using you to get to the money? You're a freaking' brainiac and a con artist! You should have seen it coming from a mile away!

But no, the great Neal Caffrey was wooed by a lady and was about to be blindsided. So I stepped in, made you think it was Fowler that blew up your beloved Kate." The man in the white suit spat Kate's name with intense loathing.

As he finished talking for the moment, the man quickly emptied the syringe's contents into Neal's IV tube. The yellowish liquid traveled through the tubing and other fluids and into Neal's bloodstream. He grinned when he saw the younger man stiffen, facial features tightening with pain as the toxin began to ravage his system.

With the arrogant smirk still sitting proudly on his thin lips, the man in the white suit got up from his seat and left.

* * *

Peter Burke was tossing and turning in his own bed as he made a futile effort to get some shut-eye. His body needed the rest but his brain refused to shut up. What was so hard about not thinking?

_Shut up!_

_What's the weather supposed to be like tomorrow?_

_I told you to be quiet!_

_Do we have anymore deviled ham for my lunch tomorrow?_

_You can worry about that in the morning now be quiet and let me get some rest._

_Why is it so damned hot in here?_

_BE QUIET!_

_Make me…_

_SHUT UP!_

_I wonder what Mozz is doing, haven't heard a peep out of the little guy since we told him that we had found Neal._

_Worry about that later, now turn yourself off._

_I don't think you want me to do that. You can't function without me. _Why did that last retort sound so much like Neal?

_Because you dolt, you miss him._

_Do not._

_Do too._

_Do not._

_Do too…_

_Wait, why am I arguing with myself?_

_I dunno, you're the one that started it._

:: _I'll be darned if that voice doesn't sound like Neal_:: Peter mused distractedly.

_Maybe I am, maybe I'm not._

Peter groaned loudly in annoyance and flopped down onto his other side.

_Did you set your alarm, check to see if the dog needs to be let out? Speaking of dogs…_

_WHAT DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT SHUT UP? _Peter roared at the other voice furiously. Seriously why couldn't a guy catch a break and be able to enjoy some well earned rest?

_What if Bugsy pees or poos in June's house? It would be your fault you know._

_Fine, you win this time Caff but there won't be a next time._

_I WON!_

_Now will you shut up?_

_No…_ Peter rolled his eyes and got out of his bed, noticing for the first time that El wasn't lying down in it. Where had she disappeared to now?

* * *

It didn't tale the agent long to find her; the overwhelming smell of fresh, home-made cookies wafted through the house, the source being the kitchen. "You couldn't sleep either?" His wife asked without even turning around to look at him.

How she had known he was there baffled him, Peter had thought that he'd been extremely quiet as he had moved through the house. "No," he shook his head as he started up the coffee machine. "I couldn't stop thinking about random things," _and arguing with myself_ he added mentally with a small smirk.

"Hope your making extra?" The statement sounded more like a question as Peter gazed at a tray of cookies, mouth watering at the aroma and the fact that his wife's home made cookies were sitting _right there_. He reached out to grab one when he thought she wasn't looking but soon found himself glaring indignantly at his wife while cradling a smarting hand. El shook her rolling pin at him menacingly and Peter put his hands up in surrender.

"Alright, alright, I get it. No cookies for Agent Peter Burke… your husband…your amazingly awesome husband…" Peter trailed off when he realized that the current tactic wasn't going to work.

El just grinned at him and handed Peter a deviled ham sandwich. "Take this with you and say hi to Neal for me."

"How'd you?"

Elizabeth Burke placed her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes before stating, "I'm your wife Peter, I know what you're going to do before you even _think_ about doing it. It's a part of my job."

Peter shook his head, a large grin spread across his face as he got into his Taurus.

* * *

"Get the doctor in here now!" The nurse called to her associate with an air of utmost importance.

The other nurse nodded and raced down the hallway. The remaining nurses quickly got to work, checking vitals, and locking restraints around their patient's limbs.

This was the scene that one Peter Burke walked in on an hour after leaving his house, (he had gone to Junes' and walked a very-happy-to-see-someone- Bugsy before coming over to the hospital. His eyes widened as he saw the nurses strapping Neal into the bed, felt his gut wrench when his partner's eyes shot open, wild with fear and pain. It made the younger man look like an injured and drugged animal.

The agent desperately wanted to go over to his friend, to tell the younger man that everything would be ok, to tell him not to fight the people that were trying to help him. He hovered outside of the door uncertainly, not wanting to get in the way. Peter was about to turn around to leave so that he would remain out of the way when a pair of panicky blue eyes caught made contact with his own eyes.

Peter felt his heart wrench as the younger man strained towards him, eyes pleading with Peter to get him out this hell, to save him from whatever it was these people were trying to do to him.

"Does he know you?" One of the nurses called to Peter. She didn't sound demanding, rude or even bossy. Rather, she sounded more like she was hoping that his answer would be positive and that he would be able to get her charge to calm down.

Peter briefly wondered why they didn't just sedate Neal but didn't comment on the question as he nodded in an answer to her question. He didn't trust his voice to sound properly right now.

"P'ter?" The consultant's voice was slurred and dry as the younger man forced the words out around the tubes that went down his throat. The CI coughed harshly in a reward for speaking and his eyes squeezed shut as pain lanced down his throat.

"Take it easy Neal," Peter soothed as he gently mussed the younger man's hair in an attempt to calm him down. The older man looked up as the doctor came striding in through the door, his eyes questioning.

Peter looked down at his friend, noticing that the younger man was leaning into the soft caresses and that Neal seemed to be calming down. Once Neal seemed to be completely calmed, the doctor motioned for Peter to go ahead and move to the waiting room.

Almost as soon as Peter so much as took a couple of steps away from ex-con artist, Neal's heart rate spiked up again as the younger man regained the terrified look to his eyes. His body fought with the machines and he choked on one of the tubes. The doctor nodded when he saw Peter's questioning glance and the older man quickly went back to his partner's side.

Once again Neal seemed to calm down, but this time the younger man tried to tell Peter something and made a growling noise in frustration when the tube impeded with his ability to communicate with his father-figure. Peter squeezed Neal's hand gently to let the younger man know that he was there and then felt Neal tapping something.

_Stay_.

"Don't worry buddy, I'm not going anywhere." Peter reached down and gently mussed the young con's hair again with a small grin as Neal leaned into the touch before tensing slightly as wave of pain crashed through his system.

Neal looked so vulnerable and helpless right now. That wasn't a look that should be associated with the young consultant and Peter hoped that Neal would be able to get out of the hospital soon. That his friend would be able to go back to harassing Peter to the borderline of insanity once more. Funny how you missed even the annoying things when someone could be taken away from you.

"Why didn't you give him any tranquilizers?" Peter asked one of the nurses softly as she checked a nearby machine.

"We weren't sure of how it would react to whatever it was that he had been injected with."

Peter looked at her, a look of sheer surprise on his face. "Someone just tried to kill him, while he was in here?"

The nurse, Holly, nodded. "It seems to be that way Mr. Burke."

* * *

_**Author's Notes: Dun dun dun… what will happen to Neal? What was he given? I hope you guys liked the fluff I tried to interweave into the chapter. What did you think about the Man in the White Suit's past with Neal? Like it? Hate it? Let me know in your reviews.**_

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_**Here are the Matt Bomer quotes for the chappie:**_

_**The Sweet Side: **__**My parents raised me right, so I always open doors for people and try to have good manners."**_

_**The Devious Side: **__**"I've been a con artist since I was 16 and trying to get my dad to buy me a car. I never succeeded, but I learnt a lot of tactics."**_

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_**And now I believe that I owe you guys that sneak peek at the upcoming White Collar story.**_

_**Description: In order to out-con the enemy Neal gets sent undercover as one of the knights in the Renaissance Festival. Can he hold his own when he has to sub for the regular knight in the jousting tournament? **_

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_Neal Caffrey grimaced as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was in a suit of armor, the metal conformed to fit the contours of his body so that he would be able to move around without too much restraint and still be protected. The con artist felt like a fool but knew that this wasn't as bad as the other case that he would have had to do if he hadn't opted for this one._

_It had taken him a long month of training in order to get ready for his undercover mission, and the young man was still sore from being knocked out of the saddle one to many times. Neal had always been a natural when it came to horseback riding, but jousting was a whole different ball game when it came to the cues that he needed to send his mount._

_The horse that he had been assigned since the beginning was adequately named Kate (short for Katedianip). The mare was a pretty bay Thoroughbred and was a gentle mount. She was easy to control and had taken an immediate liking to Neal. Yes, they had their ups and downs over the course of the training sessions but the two had managed to stick together. And now they were going to be putting their skills to the test for the first time in a few minutes. Neal was nervous but knew that he had to calm his nerves or else his mount would pick up on them and get jittery. His opponent was announced by the knight that was already in the ring and Neal saw the other man urge his strawberry roan mount into a loping canter. _

_Neal swallowed nervously as he heard the crowd cheering for the other man as he rode past his section of fans and then the loud sound of booing from when Jackson rode past Neal's designated fans. Then his own name was announced, well at least his alias' name was. "Darius!" _

_Sliding some of the reins through his hands and leaning forward while keeping his back straight, Neal squeezed his mount's sides gently and the mare rocketed forward. Neal flashed his trademark grin and couldn't help but smirk in amusement when the girls in Jackson's section cheered for him as he went past, turning traitors on their assigned knight. _

_After warming Kate up with a few more laps around the ring, Neal brought her to a stop in front of his allotted fans. He was handed a lance and a young woman came out of the crowed in order to 'crown' the lance. Neal wheeled Kate around dramatically and then both he and Jackson galloped around the arena for one more lap before they each stopped at their own sides of the bleachers. A group of senior boys were chanting, "Darius, Darius, Darius!" While pumping their fists into the air._

_Raising his lance, Neal quickly managed to get his crowd to be quiet enough to hear him._

"_I will give you victory!" He paused and thrust the lance up into the air for added emphasis. "I will spill his blood!" Once more he thrust the lance and this time the crowd roared their approval. _

_Of course the little punks want to see blood. No surprise there. _

_Neal continued his rallying speech and then cued Kate to rear, spinning her around in the process in a complex maneuver and trotted over to the other two knights. They looked at him scornfully (he was portraying the bad knight after all) and leered at them mockingly._

_Charles (the announcer) turned to Jackson and spoke to him first, loud enough for the crowd to be able to hear what he said easily. "Do you so swear to fight honorably, with courage and integrity in this duel to the death?"_

_Jackson puffed up his chest before regally declaring, "I so SWEAR that I will fight with honor, courage and integrity in this duel to the death!" _

_Charles turned to face Neal now. "Darius, do you so swear to fight honorably, with courage and integrity in this duel to the death?"_

_Neal simply leered at him and made a mocking gesture, causing the crowd to laugh. The young man didn't say anything, only sat there and leered like a fool tom cat._

"_Darius?" Charles sounded exasperated, as if he had been forced to put up with Darius' attitude one to many times._

_Neal's only response was a mock bow before urging Kate to her side of the jousting fence. His squire equipped him with his shield and checked his gear to make sure everything was as it should be. The squire gave Neal's leg an affectionate pat of encouragement as he handed his knight the battle lance._

_The young man hefted it with a sense of ease and felt Kate tense underneath him. The mare knew what was about to happen and Neal could tell that she was looking forward to it. _

_Charles dropped the flags and quickly moved out of the way as the two knights urged their horses into a gallop, dirt flying out from under their mounts' hooves, breath steaming from dilated nostrils as the horses snorted their breaths excitedly. _

_Neal brought his lance around and fit it into shoulder so that the weapon was snug tight and braced himself for the impact._

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_**Author's Notes: Well, what do you think of the idea? Is it something that you would want to read more of in the future? Let me know in your reviews!**_


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